


Can't You Hear My Call

by Saerus2665



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Angst, Breaking Up & Making Up, Lance's family - Freeform, M/M, Minor Character Death, Minor Lance/Lotor (Voltron), Pls dont ask me how the laws of magic here work, Slow Burn, Werewolf Keith (Voltron), Werewolf Shiro (Voltron), magic shop au, re-burn technically
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-04-16
Packaged: 2020-01-12 00:42:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18435497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saerus2665/pseuds/Saerus2665
Summary: Two years have passed since the unexpected death of his father and Lance is doing just fine running his family’s small town magic shop. He's following his dad's footsteps as the head mage of Arus, he has his own place, he's doing fine-at least, he was, until one evening his werewolf ex-boyfriend who left town three years ago suddenly sprints past his shop running like a bat out of hell. Keith claims he’s on the trail of his missing brother but Lance is 99% sure he just saw the guy yesterday…Lance suddenly finds himself caught up in a whirlwind of drama and danger trying to uncover the truth about something sinister that’s been lurking around Arus’ right under his nose, all the while only knowing half the entire story because there’s definitely something that Keith isn’t telling him. Lance needs to figure out how to somehow keep his head and shop above water, keep his friends safe, and figure just who in Arus is involved in all this. He also needs to sell out his stock of way too many enchanted screaming plants by Halloween.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have no excuse for this. I just wanted a werewolf Keith/Magic Lance AU.

Lance set up his mom’s old radio in the corner on one of the old barrels. It lulled a soft eighties pop tune through the air, only the occasional crackle of static interrupting. Lance stripped a few leaves from a stalk and hummed along with it. 

It hadn’t been a very busy morning in the shop, just the occasional regular popping in for ingredients or to pick up an order. It was almost midday now and bright sunlight was filtering in through the warped glass windows. Fall was getting closer and the sun hung lower in the sky but if he closed his eyes, Lance could still pretend it was summer, just for a bit longer.

Plaxum huffed as she dumped the bag of fish he’d brought her out onto the floor.

Lance raised an eyebrow. 

“What?” she said, lifting herself a bit further out of the pool to sift through the pile.

He’d set up his equipment near the edge of the pool in the floor of his shop where Plaxum was. The pool itself was a small channel that actually ran from the shop to the ocean about a mile away. It was large enough to fit most of the sea creatures that visited the shop. His father had actually moved and rebuilt his family’s shop around it when his parents had first married just so his mother didn’t have to walk back and forth to the ocean each day to work. 

With his mother back in Cuba now he didn’t really see a lot of sea creatures now, but occasionally one or two old clients like Plaxum would swing by with small little magic requests that he could help with.

His mother specialized in ocean magic. She’d learned it growing up in Cuba from a local mer who preferred to live his life on land. Mermaid and ocean magic in general were adapted for underwater life, and there were mechanics to it that took anyone not from the sea years to master. 

Plaxum only needed a potion from him, which was simple enough. She spent most of her time researching land based remedies and potions and modifying them with sea magic so they worked underwater. She reached out from time to time seeking help for her research and would later imbue Lance’s potions with her own magic. Lance had known Plaxum almost all his whole life. She was one of their oldest family friends and one of the smartest, most talented people Lance knew. Kind and charming with an affinity for dating terrifying shark-mers that thankfully Lance had never had the pleasure of meeting.

Plaxum picked up a carp and then promptly ripped out its spine in one clean fluid motion.

Lance blinked down twice at the sheer amount of gore that was spewed across his shop’s floor. He finally sighed and set down his mortar and pestle, clearing his throat. 

“Plax.” He waited patiently as she started hacking a fishbone out her throat and watched as it skittered across his floor before continuing. “You’re getting fish guts in my potion.” He very pointedly flipped the spine she’d discarded away from himself with a stir stick. 

Plaxum raised an eyebrow, the fish still inches away from her face. “You mean my potion,” she asked pointedly and then took another very slow bite, “Which you are brewing for me?” Flecks of food flew from her mouth as she spoke. Lance’s eye twitched. 

“You’re a menace” He stated, “and you have fish guts all over your face.” 

Plaxum just rolled her eyes. She did however push away from the edge of the pool float in the center. “Whatever, Lance” she said, “You’re probably secretly into it anyway.” She smirked at him over the top of her meal. 

“You got fish guts in my eye. I don’t think anyone could be into that.” He said, picking back up his mortar and pestle. He got back to work grinding his ingredients, missing the devious look Plaxum shot his way. 

“So,” she started slowly, amicably. “You don’t think I’m- and I quote- the most beautiful creature to ever grace the face of the earth?” A slow grin on her face. 

Lance ground his ingredients even harder. “I was thirteen, Plax!” He shouted down at them, “ I said the exact same thing to Allura when we first met so you’re not special.” He snapped his head up and stabbed his pestel in her direction. 

Only then did he see the very, very conspicuous grin she was giving him.

“Don’t you dare”- He started. It was too late. 

Plaxum tilted her chin upward only just and hummed, “Lance…” 

The air in the room rippled with the sound of her voice. It was pitched higher and smoother, like the notes of a melody or the tinkling of bells. Lance’s attention was immediately captured. He hung off her words, waiting for her to say something, anything else. The need for it stole his breath away. The pestel he’d been holding dropped to the floor. 

It was the resounding clang of it that snapped Lance back to himself. He gasped, scandalized and glared at her. “Plaxum!” he yelled, face burning. “That’s not fair!”

Plaxum just hummed to herself, smiling innocently as she took another bite of her fish.

Lance continued to glared as he snatched his pestel back up. “Aren’t fish supposed to be your friends anyway” He grumped, once again getting back to his task. 

“ ‘Aren’t fish supposed to be your friend?’ ” Plaxum snipped back, rolling her eyes. “What are you, the magic police?” 

Lance wanted to say that yeah, he sort of was at this point. 

Plaxum shook her head as she licked her fingers. “It’s like the difference between chickens and a dogs to you. Sharks and shit are a lot smarter than these guys.” 

Her eyes fell to one of the salmon in the pile on the floor. Lance sighed and leaned forward to toss it to her. She caught it quick as a flash, snatching it out of the air, and then took a huge bite.

“and freshwater fish are just so much tastier” She added through her mouthful. 

The image of Plaxum tearing raw flesh from bone with little rivulets of oil-diluted blood dripping down her hands was quickly becoming nauseating. Lance focused back on his work. 

Time passed with only the hum of the radio and the squelching of fish guts for a bit. 

Plaxum eventually finished her lunch, decimating nearly three fourths of the supply Lance had brought her. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, using some of the sea water to clean the last of her meal off before she floated back over to the edge of the pool. She rested her fingertips against the edge and tucked her chin over the top of them and watched Lance as he worked. 

Lance finally finished grinding the last ingredients and added it into the potion. Once finished, he corked the screw and cast a small sealing charm before handing it back to her. 

“Sorry, that this is the best I can right now. Mom’s got most of her books down in Cuba.” He said, rubbing at the back of his neck. 

Hopefully, if there ever was a real emergency, Plaxum would go down there instead of here. 

Plaxum took the bottle from him with a kind smile stretched across her pale pink lips. “Oh hush, I'm sure you’ve done beautifully.”

He watched as she held the vial up in a beam of sunlight that was cast across the room, lifting herself further out of the water to do so. The rays also caught across her skin, scattering rainbows across the smooth scales on her cheeks, making Lance’s breath catch. Mermaids really were absolutely stunning creatures.

Plaxum turned back to him after a moment, lips splitting with a mouth full of razor sharp teeth set as she grinned.

“This will work perfect.” She slid back into the pool and reached around herself to store the potion in the bright colored fanny pack Lance had gotten her years ago. It said “I love Cuba” across the front of it in cheesy white tourist lettering. Lance still grinned to himself every time he saw it.

“I’ve gotta get back.” Plaxum went on. “Thanks for your help.” 

“Anything for you Plax,” Lance said, waving his hand. “Just remember me next time you're out there hunting down the next shark-mer to date.” He grinned.

“Hey!” she protested, splashing him and making him squeak. “ Dating Shark-mers is no more dangerous than dating werewolves!” 

Water dripped off the tip of his nose as he glared at her flatly. After a second she started laughing. 

“I’ll poison you.”

Plaxum tilted her chin to the side. “I’ll drag you down here and eat you,” she returned, doing a little side-to-side maneuver that served to remind Lance that mermaids were, in fact, the most lethal predators in the sea. 

Lance only raised his chin. He let an even sharper grin split out across his face and rolled forward onto his knees and then propped his chin up on his elbows at the edge of the pool. 

“Girl, I’d let you eat me any day”. He winked. 

Plaxum exploded into laughter and Lance found himself joining. 

“Goodbye, you big dork.” She said after a few more moments. “Tell your mom I said ‘Hi, and I love her‘.”

Lance shot her a lazy finger gun. “You got it!”

Plaxum picked up the bag of leftover fish and tied it around her waist before she waved goodbye. She dove backward into the pool, her giant tail sending up a cascade of water that Lance couldn't even try to avoid. It crashed over him and soaked him to the bone yet again. Such was the nature of dealing with mermaids, the didn’t really understand the concept of being dry.

It was quiet for a moment, the only sound from the radio and the water settling in the pool.  
Lance rolled over onto his back and dragged his hands down his face. The radio the talk show host came on and talked about preparation for the upcoming MFE pilot visit. Lance raised his arm up and watched a cascade of water pool off of his sleeve, laughed at the sheer amount of water that was soaking off of him. 

Visits from Plaxum and the other sea creatures never failed to make his day brighter. He always enjoyed them more than the front of the shop guests. There was never a shortage of older ladies in the front shop to complain about something obscure like their neighbors plants overtaking theirs or their cats bowel movements and they always mowed right over any of Lance’s attempts to explain he was neither a vet nor a wood nymph and that not all problems could be solved with magic. 

Speak of the devil and all that, because as soon as he had the thought the doorbell rang to the front of the shop. 

Lance groaned quietly to himself and made himself get up and to his feet. The water on him was easy enough to cast off. He gave a short flick of his hand, pulling the droplets out of the fabric of his clothes before flicking them back into the pool. He’d never master ocean magic like his mom, but Lance has always been better at water magic than any other element. 

Lance untied his mother’s potion-making apron from around his waist and threw it in a ball onto one of the barrels. He tried to make his hair as presentable as possible before he pushed through the curtain leading out front. 

The golden light filtered in through the shop windows, catching on all the old dust suspended, floating between leaves of the various plants in the windows, and striking off the glass of the vials in the potion aisle. Lance’s dad has kept most of the design from the original shop when he moved it. There were four aisles filled with various magic potions, ingredients, and equipment stretching away from the back counter towards the front door. Two display case that Lance’s family used to fill with various flowers and herb plants were in each front window. All the old, dark wood in the shop made it appear smaller than it really was, but the huge front windows and the candles pushed to the end of the back counter helped to make it appear cozier.

Lance was expecting to find Ms. Nancy there again, asking him to try and find her lost bird again, or someone similar. 

He was pleasantly surprised to see a familiar little red head standing near the doorway, poking at Halloween display plants. 

“Pidgeot!” Lance greeted them with a grin.

Pidge visited once or twice a week nowadays, but every time it felt like he hadn’t seen the little mage in forever. Maybe it was because Hunk was gone right now on his sort of spirit quest and Lance was feeling extra lonely. 

Pidge was too engrossed in his halloween display to fully acknowledge him as he came to stand next to them. “Ghoulish Greens?” They asked, eyebrows scrunched together. 

“Yeah!” Lance beamed, watching as Pidge poker the inside of one of the heads on the venus fly traps.“They”-

The plant swiveled back its head and let out an ungodly high-pitched screech. Pidge swore loudly and covered their ears, flinching back.

Lance watched with nothing but pride on his face. 

“They scream.” He finished triumphantly, gesturing with both hands at the plants. 

Pidge looked back and forth between him and the plant. “Why!?” they demanded.

Lance paused. “Uh.” 

Sure, it had taken some time to make that spell and yeah, a lot of his regular stuff was selling out a lot faster than anything on his halloween display, but it had been a fun break and they brightened up the shop, even when little kids who couldn’t keep their hands to themselves came in and set them all off by accident. Lance just enjoyed using his magic for fun. 

Pidge apparently didn’t think so.

“These are very dumb” They said finally, giving very plain look. 

“Oh whatever, Pidge” Lance huffed, crossing his arms, “Go eat a computer or something.” Pidge would never get his creative prowess. 

He left Pidge at the front of the shop and walked back behind counter. The light on the tiny dishwasher was glowing blue, so Lance opened it and began unloading the shops glassware into the cabinets that were next to it. 

“I’m just saying,” Pidge said as they walked up, setting their laptop bag on the counter and pulling a stool over from against the wall. “the plant i is already creepy in itself, why not make something different scream, like the little ghosts on the banners.”

Lance glared at them from where he could barely see over the countertop. “The ghosts float throughout your house at night, Pidge, they already have a thing!”

“It just doesn’t make much sense, Lance!” 

Lance shoved the last glass into the cabinet and stood with his hands on his hips, fixing Pidge with a very firm pout. “If you ever speak to me or my screaming plants again...”

“Alright, alright,” Pidge threw up their hands. “I’ll make you a bet, if you sell more than 15 of those by Halloween, I'll Literally buy the rest off of you.” 

Lance thought back to the three additional cases of screaming fly traps that were in the back of the shop. “You’re on.”

Sure, everyone who had seen the plants this far had winced and awkwardly shuffled away from his entire halloween display, but Lance was confident that there were at least five people in Arus that shared his sense of humor. 

With that argument settled, Lance began pulling out his potion making equipment, ducking briefly into the back to grab his mortar and pestle he’d left on the floor by the pool. Pidge set up their laptop and plugged a portable hard drive into the side. 

Pidge had been asking him to make various small potions for them for the past few weeks, always insisting Lance make them fresh instead of just taking one he kept stocked on the store’s shelves. It always took a chunk of time out of Lance’s schedule but he never minded it. Pidge always came in when it wasn’t very busy and sat with him while he brewed it. Lance appreciated the company. He figured all this was probably just Pidge’s own way of checking on him, after everything with his dad and stuff. He liked hanging out with Pidge and he always felt better after, so he guessed whatever their plan was, it was working. 

Pidge watched him with as Lance finished setting everything out across the old wooden countertop. He looked up and gestured to it, waiting for their request.

“Got anything for sleep?” Pidge asked, picking up one of his beakers and examining the markings on the side. 

Lance raised an eyebrow. “Uh, Z-quil?”

“Ha-ha” Pidge bit back, voice dripping with sarcasm. 

“Nightmares?” Lance plucked the beaker back from them and set it on the counter and filled it halfway with poppy milk.

“Something like that,” they muttered, giving a one-shouldered shrug. 

Now that he was looking, Lance could see there were heavy bags under Pidge’s eyes. They looked like they’d been spending too much time again weaving their magic into code and digging into new computer systems.

Lance understood why. It’d been six months since Matt’s disappearance and everytime Pidge came into the shop Lance could still see it weighing heavily on them. Six months and still no one had heard a peep. Pidge didn’t need to tell him that either. 

Lance’s dad has created a network in the rafters of his shop that made a perfect map the streets of Arus. Individual little sparks of white light for each magic user lit up in little flashes for each bit of magic cast in the town. His dad had created it as a way to track new users traveling through town, and look out for any dangerous spells. The only lights that were permanently lit were those of his friends that Lance had created, with their permission of course. Matt’s star still hung in the same place up in the rafters, a slightly darker green than Pidge’s. 

So maybe Pidge’s visits were actually for both of their benefit. 

Lance pulled the rest of the ingredients for Pidge’s potion out from the old wooden drawers that lined the wall behind the counter as Pidge started typing. Lance paused once he’d set out most of the ingredients and leaned back against the counter, surveying the rest of the drawers and tapping a stalk of Lavender to his nose in thought. 

“Alright, we’ve got lavender, honey, valerian, almond milk” Lance swished the stalk of lavender towards Pidge as he remembered that last point. “Jasmine, and…”

“Mmm, Chamomile, right?” Pidge said, not looking up from their laptop.

Lance swished the stalk of Lavender over the top of the laptop. “Poppyseed, your right!” He knelt down to search one of the drawers near the floor. 

“You know Pidge,” He said once he resurfaced. “You could probably do this yourself, if you spent half as much time working spells books instead of computers. You could be Arus’s new head mage.” 

He was really only half joking.

Pidge waved him off, refusing to look up from their screen. “Who’s got the time for that?” They dismissed, distracted. 

Lance rolled his eyes and began grinding the ingredients together. “Plaxum came to visit again today” Lance said after a few seconds of quiet.

“Mhm” Pidge hummed. 

“She needed a potion,” Lance went on, “Mom obviously could have made it better, but I think I did a pretty good job. Plax working on a new health potion when she’s not at Queen Luxia’s castle court, she got promoted to head physician.”

“That's great.” Pidge said, scrolling through something. 

Lance nodded. “Queen Luxia’s doing much better by the way, Plax thinks she’ll be back to full health by December. Mom’s gonna be real happy to hear that..” Lance went on, rambling mostly to himself as Pidge worked, only offering one word answers or input whenever they deemed fit. But it didn’t bother Lance. He was mostly content to just have someone else to talk to. Even if Pidge wasn't the most attentive they never minded him talking to just to fill the time. With his mom out of town for and Hunk gone now too now, things were quiet in Lance’s life. 

Once all the ingredients were combined, Lance trailed off in his talking to focus his magic. He moved his hand over the flask and the space in between the floating particles began to glow a bright teal blue, matching the color of light that formed underneath his palm. The candles at the end of the countertop flickered briefly as the magic they fed on briefly waned. Lance concentrated on creating an aura spell and then weaving it with a sleeping spell. He poured it into the potion and held it just a bit longer before letting the spell fade out. He dropped his hand and the candles on the countertop returned to normal again as the potion settled into a deep purple color. Lance placed a corked in the top of the potion and then pushed back across the counter to Pidge. 

“A few drops of that should knock you out flat on your ass.” 

Pidge picked the bottle up and inspected it, swirling the contents around before they were seemingly satisfied and they stow it in their bag. “Thanks,” They said, replacing their bag back on the floor beside them.. 

Then their expression waivered, turning a little bit awkward and slightly tense. Lance tilted his head waiting for their words.

“Have you had any luck”- they paused and scratched at a spot on the countertop and cleared their throat - “with that tracking potion?” they finished and glanced up at him. 

Lance felt his chest tighten and he frowned and staring down at his empty potion flasks and leftover ingredients as he tried to find the words. He thought back to the stacks upon stacks of books piled high on his desk at home, the side notes scratched out angrily and a myriad of post-it notes littered through the texts. He worked hard on Pidge’s request every night but hard work alone wasn’t going to find Matt. Tracking potions themselves were a challenge to make, tracking potions that could be used without ever having been drank was unheard of. Lance had been trying combinations of potions and spells and spending countless hours brewing but to no avail. The guilt was constantly eating at him over it, always there in the back of his mind. His inability to help his friends weighed heavy on him day and night.

Lance cleared his throat, grimacing. “No, not yet. I’m sorry, Pidgey.” He drummed his fingers on the countertop. “I promise I’ll keep trying though.” He added, voice tight.

Pidge sat back in their seat, looking unbothered but Lance could sense their disappointment 

“Don’t beat yourself up about-.” They started but Lance quickly squicked his head to the side, a sharp noise of protest left his throat, cutting them off. Pidge didn’t need to be the one comfort him right now. His brother wasn’t the one that was missing. 

The real kicker about this whole situation was that Lance knew his dad would be able to do it. Hell, Pidge probably knew that too. If only Matt has gotten kidnapped two years earlier, they would’ve found him in no time. 

Lance pursed his lips to stop himself from getting too worked up. His frustration and guilt made his eyes sting, threatening to give way to tears. He needed to do something to distract himself, the silence was becoming awkward. Lance began moving the vials off the counter into the dishwasher, only moved a little too quickly and knocked one down to the ground, shattering it. 

Pidge watched it happen and breathed out “Lance, it’s okay,” as he stared down at the mess of glass on his floor. 

Lance shut his eyes and took a deep breath. He then reopened them and giving Pidge a apologetic wince before he knelt down to grab the dustpan.

Lance cleaned up the glass and sent Pidge on their way with their small potion, waiving off their attempts to pay him as usual and even going as far as to magic Pidge’s wallet so it couldn’t open. It was a small spell that Pidge would no doubt be able to break before it wore off in a few hours. 

“You’re literally impossible,” Pidge gruffed, snatching up their bag up. 

“See you later. I love you” He called, watching as they stormed towards the door. He waved at them through the front windows as they passed. The shorter mage flipped him off. 

Lance sighed and sat down behind the counter. He leaned his elbows on the counter and then buried his hands in his hair. He still felt embarrassed about his minor freak out but he didn’t want to dwell on it now. He lifted his head and rested his chin, surveying the shop. 

He remembered the few times his dad had remodeled the shop in their childhood. His whole family had come up to help the last time. Lance and his sister Veronica had painted the front exterior together and by the end of it they’d gotten almost as much paint on each other as they had the building.

He thought maybe he should text Veronica, ask her how working at the Garrison was. Except there was still some little part of him was jealous of her for working there. He often thought about what would have become of his dream to be a pilot if his father hadn’t gotten sick, or if Veronica had been the one to step up and take over the family business. Lance glanced at his phone sitting on a shelf underneath the counter and thought better of it. He’d call Veronica when he had something better to say. 

Lance turned his head upward. The map of Arus above them is quiet now, where in hangs in the rafters. Pidge’s tiny green dot trekking down mainstreet on their way towards their home.

Lance remembered when his father created it, weaving the streets from memory out of silky silver-white string. Lance remembered the first time he’d seen one of the white lights light up on it. It had been his mother performing a spell in the adjacent room and Lance gasped dramatically, amazed at the little sparkle of light before it had faded away. Lance’s dad has only laughed at his amazement before climbing down off his stool and scooping Lance up into his arms, walking back under the maze of string.

“This one will be for you, Lance” He’d said and reached out to form a bright blue ball of light on one of the strings beneath his fingers, right next to where Lance had seen the flash earlier. His dad went on, “This one will be for your mother. And this one for me, for Veronica, and Marco, and Louis…”beneath his fingertips, each new star of light formed either placed at their shop or at their family home in Arus. “Now I can have you all here with me while I work.” Lance's father had said, pecking a kiss to the top of Lance’s head before he’d set Lance back down on the ground. 

Lance swallowed hard and wiped away frustratedly at the tears that had suddenly filled his eyes. 

The stars above him popped up here and there as people went about their daily life in Arus. There were only a few colored stars on the map now that most of Lance’s family had moved back to Cuba. Hunk’s bright yellow star was stuck against the edge of the map on the road Hunk had taken out of town a month ago. There was also one pink and one black star stuck in the far north corner where the Shirogane pack house was. Lance frowned at those two. He really should make himself change those soon... 

The rest of the flashes Lance could usually recognize based off of location; Ms. Graham and her husband working at the 2nd street coffee shop, a lovely half-water nymph woman and her husband who used cooking magic to make fun pastries and pies adored by everyone in town. 

Mr. Sellers who to hang out in the park almost the entire day. He was still missing his wife a lot and found comfort in growing park plants and talking to some of the animals there.

Lotor’s magic shop constantly had intimidatingly large pricks of light as he worked on whatever potions or spells he made for his own customers. 

Of course, Lance tried not to watch the stars too much. His dad has always said just because it was now their job to patrol all magical threats to Arus, didn’t mean they didn’t have to respect people’s personal privacy. 

Lance dropped his elbows off the counter and sighed, wishing he could stop thinking about his dad. His father's old book he’d been reading this morning still sat near the edge of the counter and Lance pulled it towards him. It talked about the basics of many magical concepts and theories, alot of which he had already learned from his dad before, but maybe he hadn’t paid the closest attention to them because really, why would he think his dad wasn’t going to just be head mage forever? He’d been so good at his job. Arus’s citizens just loved coming to him for help and his dad always had a kind face and listening ear to lend to anyone and everyone.

Lance had been more than happy to be basically a helper in their shop when he was little, just a witness and sometimes a helper to the more spectacular displays of magic his dad created. He hadn’t ever really intended to take over the shop, at least not until his parents were well old and he’d could have accomplished everything he wanted to do. 

Lance pushed the thought from his mind when his throat began to close up. He was so bored he was only thinking about his dad again and he didn't want to go down that road before right before close. He made himself reread the paragraph he was on again.

The base ingredients for fire potions are as follows. The main body can be adjusted depending on use - underwater, airborne or other. It’s necessary to consider this when designing a fire potion...

Lance remembers his father teaching him this when he was nine. He used practically the same words then. Lance’s 9-year old feet barely scraped the floor where he sat on top of one of his mom’s old wooden barrels. His dad had stood next to him, guiding him through the process. Lance had been only half listening, distracted by the mermaid his mom had been helping at the time.

Lance huffed to himself and rubbed at his eyes. He made himself read the lines over again. 

The base ingredients for fire potions are as follows. The main body can be adjusted depending on use - underwater, airborne or other. It’s necessary to consider this when designing-

And again because now he was not really paying attention this time either.

The base ingredients for fire potions are as follows. The main body can be adjusted depending on use - underwater, airborne or other. It’s-

Focus. Lance’s hissed at himself. He cursed out loud and wished not for the first time there was a magic cure for ADHD. Almost all of his problems would probably be solved if he could just pay attention. 

Lance kept trying to unsuccessfully make himself finish reading until he was frustrated to the point of near tears. A voice not-unlike his mothers cut through his frustrated thoughts and told him it was time for a break. 

Lance swung his feet off the stool and stood up. He moved around the counter, into to the aisles of the shop, and began sorting through the pouches and parcels on top of the old wooden shelves. There were some things in the shop that needing restocking, particularly their crystals. They were a bitch to get but at least he’d get to see Shay if he went to Balmera. 

Lance moved around to his sale display. He looked down at his collection of screaming plants and pursed his lips, placing his hands on his hips. Hindsight was always a bitch, but he really shouldn’t have made so many. If only every time magician he knew hadn’t taken to disappearing as of late.

Lance sighed.

Then there was the matter of his father's watch…

Point was, Lance was stuck with far too many screaming plants. He pulled a pen out of his back pocket and added a little curve to his sale sign, changing the 10% Off to a 90%. He hoped he could sell them and make Pidge eat their words, otherwise he’d have to destroy them. 

Lance shuddered at the thought of tossing dozens of screaming plants into a blazing fire outback. 

He finished organizing the stock shelves and then set about dragging some of the bigger plants up onto the higher ledge in the windows of the shop. The sound of clay scraping against the floor filled the air as Lance hauled the larger plants around. 

The tinkling noise of star sounded from above him. Ever since Matt disappeared Lance had cast a small charm on his friends stars that alerted him when they safely arrived at their destination. Lance had been tracking Pidge in the back of his mind as he went about the last bit of the day, listening for that familiar ring. So he didn’t bother to look while he finished moving around the last of the potted plants and set about preening their leaves.

Then a second ring came.

Lance froze in the midst of his preening, dead leaf still clutched in his hand as he very quickly ran through his mental checklist. Hunk was out of town. A quick glance up brought Lance face to face with the Pink and Black star that hadn’t moved from where the pack house resided just out of Arus’s borders. Lance whipped around. Pidge...Pidge had just gotten home.

So who was that second ring. 

Something jumped in Lance’s throat as he slowly turned, scanning the rest of the grid above him. There was only one other star up there. 

One brilliant ball of red zipped down the main road into the heart of Arus for the first time in three years. 

Lance dropped the dead leaves he was holding. He swore loudly. “That son of a bitch.” 

The tiny red dot tracked down the street into town and then swept right. Lance’s heart jumped even further into his throat. It was coming down his street now, which of course it was, he was the head mage now, but still- holy shit.

Lance turned in place once then again as he tried to think of something he could possibly do to prepare him to see Keith again.

It wasn’t the law or anything, but it was common courtesy for creatures like werewolves to stop by and give the head mage a heads up when passing through. It was more of a custom for lone werewolves because some wolf packs were feral and it was the head mage’s job to make sure none of their villagers got turned and ran away into the woods in the night. 

Keith’s star was moving so fast. Lance watched it and wondered if he was in wolf form. 

Ugh! What was Keith even doing here?

Lance had been so stuck on the whole situation that it was now too late. Keith was already almost here. 

Wait. 

Scratch that.

Keith fucking Kogane in all his full ‘Ditch’s town for three years without one word’ glory just dips past the front Lance’s shop, running at full speed like a bat straight out of hell. He doesn’t even stop to glance once at Lance’s shop as he passed. 

Lance stared out the window after him in shock.

“That son of a bitch” Lance swore again loudly. He sprung into action, grabbed his jacket off its hook behind the back counter and sprinting out the front door. He magicked the door sign behind him so it read ‘closed’.

Lance glanced down the other direction of the sidewalk, making sure there was no one else outside, before he took off after Keith. 

Keith was a werewolf, so even in human form he was fast, but Lance was fast too and he knew Arus like the back of his hand. Lance pivoted abruptly in his sprint down the street and ducked down an adjacent alley. He splashed through puddles and slid over the top of a dumpster, ending up on the main street of Arus. He quickly cut left and took off quickly toward the park. 

Mrs. Bennet yelped out his name as he collided with her as he pushed through a throng of people gathered outside one of the restaurants. 

Lance continued to mutter apologizes as he pushed past. He was going to have to hand out quite a few discounts in apology later.

Still, he made it to the park just in time to see Keith disappearing further down one of the more deserted park paths, still running at full speed. Lance ran after him only until they were sufficiently concealed in the shadows of the park’s thick trees and were out of sight, then he stopped short and just yanked up a barrier spell right in front of Keith’s path.

It was probably a little bit too close for Keith to fully stop, and maybe Lance knew that when he made it, but also Keith was an asshole, so..

The resounding crack of the werewolf running full speed into it echoed through the quietness of the park. 

Lance watched Keith drop to the ground like a sack of bricks. His hands flew up to clutch his face as he swore loudly from behind them.

Lance trailed his way over, making no attempts to hide his smug expression as he watched. 

“Fuck!” Keith moved his hands away from his face, both a bit bloody. 

Suddenly, Lance was struck with the thought he didn’t really know what to do from here. The head mage handbook didn’t exactly have a section on how to question your werewolf ex-boyfriend who just tried to sprint through town after being gone for three years. His smile fell and Lance felt his mouth go dry. Seriously, what was he supposed to say here? 

Luckily, he didn’t have to think for long. Keith rolled over onto his side and then heaved himself back up to his feet. He looked first at the distorted wall of the magic that made force field, “Who the fuck-“ he whipped around. Those angry eyes found Lance and narrowed. “Lance!” He growled like he was affronted Lance would even be here. In the town Lance was head mage of. 

His earlier anger suddenly returned and Lance eyes narrowed too as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Keith,” He said mocking Keith’s tone. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

The glare Keith gave him could have melted ice. Lance remained unfazed. Some things didn’t change after three years. 

Keith gave up and snarled, “I don’t have time for this.” He turned back around and tried to ram through the forcefield. 

Lance watched unfazed as Keith went spiraling back to the ground back again. 

“Fuck,” Keith swore again from as he clutched at his shoulder, his teeth grit in pain. He turned his glare back to Lance a second later and hissed, “Move it you asshole”.

“Keith.” Lance forced himself to be calm. Truthfully, he was getting a little bit concerned. Keith had to have known that last trick wouldn't work. “You can’t -“

“Lance,” Keith scrambled back up to his feet and drew up fully to face him. His eyes were hard and serious and his voice low and lethal as he said, “Listen to me. I know this may take some time to get through your thick head but I need to go now”

“What’s going on Keith?” Lance said instead of taking the bait. “Why are you running through town like a maniac?”

Keith threw his hands up. “I tracking up a scent.”

“Who’s scent?” 

“Shiro’s.”

Lance rolled his eyes and dropped his arms back to his sides. Of course it was about Shiro. 

“I could have helped you. I just saw Shiro a couple of days ago”

To his confusion, Keith shook his head. “Not the real Shiro,” he said, looking away. 

Lance’s felt his patience growing thin. “What are you even saying?” he demanded, “How could that not be the real Shiro?”

“Lance, I-“ Keith cut himself off and made a frustrated sound in the back of his throat. “I need to go now.” He turned and slammed his fist into Lance’s forcefield so hard that it made a distorted ripple all the way through the frame of it. A twinge of it Lance felt through in his magic.

Lance waited for the forcefield to settle before he spoke again. “I can’t let you run around town like this, man. You’re clearly not thinking straight.” He took a cautious step closer, assessing. “I taught you how to dismantle those barriers years ago.”

Keith was trembling now. Lance watched his hands clench and unclench at his sides. His eyes drifted shut and he slowly exhaled. Lance paused. For a second, Keith looked like he might calm down, but he apparently failed pretty spectacularly because he sounded even more threatening when his head snapped back up. “Lance.” Slowly, he took a step toward the mage. 

“Your freaking me out dude” Lance said, taking an unintentional step back. 

Keith continued forward, snarling. “Lance, for once in your life can you not act like a complete fucking dumbass.” 

Lance peddled back another few quick steps, fingers twitching with magic as his heart beating loudly in his chest.

“Stay the fuck out of this.” Keith’s eyes flashed gold and his fangs had dropped down, glinting as he snarled. “Let me go.”

Lance halted his movements. His chest felt tight. He swallowed hard and clenched his teeth, steeling himself against the force of Keith’s anger because the situation was different now. Keith wasn’t just being his usual hothead now. Keith was out of his mind and desperate right now. He’d just tried to alpha command Lance. Lance was no longer 100% confident that Keith wouldn’t hurt him or someone else right now. 

In all his years of knowing the werewolf, Lance had never once been afraid of Keith, of what his fangs and claws could do. 

Emotions aside, Lance was now this town's head mage and there was a near feral werewolf in the middle of their park.

Lance’s lifted a slightly shaky hand up between the two of them. Keith’s sharp eyes flicked down at the movement and narrowed, confused, until he recognized the spell. Silvery strings wore out from Lance’s plan that spread out in a web between. 

“No, Lance- Wait! “ Keith said quickly taking a few steps back. “Wait!” his voice broke near the end, sounding infinitely smaller than it had seconds before.

Lance couldn’t let Keith just go. Even if he wanted to, there were people watching them now. 

Keith stared back at him, face terrified and illuminated in the light of the spell. 

Everyone was watching, waiting to see what their head mage would do.

Lance set his jaw and cast the spell. Keith looked at him with such betrayal right before his dark eyes rolled in the back of his head and he collapsed to the ground. 

The park seemed quiet then, overwhelmingly so, as Lance stood before the heaped of unconscious werewolf piled at his feet. The few people who’d wandered closer quickly averted their gaze when Lance looked their way. 

The werewolf at his feet twitched in his sleep. 

Lance sighed.

Now what?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things get a little bit violent here, just an fyi

Keith listened to the sound of the front door opening and closing downstairs, followed by the sound of Lance’s footsteps in the stairwell. He could tell Lance just by his gait; he could tell all the pack members apart like that.

Keith turned his blade over in his hands. The words that had been so urgently whispered in his ear mere hours ago rang in his head. 

“Come alone. No one can follow.” 

There was a small, tiny strip of paper that he still had curled in his hand. The shadowy figure had pressed it there, quick and demanding, followed by the hilt of Keith’s blade. He’d whispered fast and harsh and then disappeared too quickly for Keith to see or scent him, melting into the late-afternoon crowd’s at the town’s center. By the time Keith registered what was going on, he was gone.

The sweat from his palms had smudged the writing on the piece paper, but Keith had all but memorized it by now. It was address to an abandoned house in Arus. A time was scribbled underneath it. And a date. He had five days. 

Lance threw open the door to Keith’s room, grinning bright and toothy and brandishing a box of pizza. “Hey!” He stepped into the room and let the door shut behind him. “I bought pizza.” 

Keith smiled warmly, despite himself. 

Lance set the pizza box on top of Keiths dresser and started pulling at his scarf. “Mrs. Johnson gave it to me for free. The festival was taking a toll on her ovens so we enchanted her woodfire stove so it stays the same temperature throughout. She can cook like five pizzas at the same time.-” He cocked his head to Keith while still pulling at his scarf “It was actually a really cool spell dad did. I’ll take you by there to show you some time.” 

Lance folded up his scarf and pulled off his knit hat, shaking the snow out of his hair. He shrugged out of his coat before folding his scarf and hat up in it and dropping it by the door. He then turned back to face Keith, words at the tip of his tongue, but stopped short when he saw Keith, smile faltering at the edges. 

“Hey,” he stepped closer to Keith sitting at the edge of the bed, “are you okay?”

“No one can follow.” 

Keith snapped back into himself. He rubbed at the back of his neck. “Uh, yeah, long day I guess.” The excuse felt lame even to him. 

Lance’s sharp blue eyes tracked across his face, a brow raised slightly, but he didn’t press it. Instead, his eyes drifted downward. They fell onto Keith’s blade.

“Oh,” Lance’s face lit up, delighted. “You found it.” 

Keith turned the blade in his hands. “Yeah…” he trailed off, looking down at it again. “You always did say things have a way of turning back up.” Keith placed the blade back in it’s sheathe and setbit on the bed next to him. He then looked back up at Lance. 

Lance grinned and leaned in, pecking a kiss to the top of Keith’s head. “See. You should listen to me more. I am a fountain of good advice.”

Keith’s eyes fell shut. “You worry too little sometimes.” he grumbled back. 

Lance huffed a little then pecked another kiss to his lips. Keith hesitated only a moment before he moved to kiss him back. 

Come alone. 

Keith’s jaw went tight and he pulled back, pretending not to notice Lance’s perplexed expression. “You planning on staying here tonight?” 

Lance tilted his head. “Well yeah, I drove my pizza all the way here for you.” His smile faltered as he studied Keith’s expression for a moment longer, then added slowly, “if that’s alright with you?” 

Keith forced himself to relax so Lance would stop being so damn suspicious. He reached out and took Lance’s hand, rubbing a thumb across his knuckles.“ ‘Course it’s fine. I’ll get some plates from downstairs.” 

Lance’s grin returned. “Adam said he made a pie?” 

“Yeah, he did. And Shiro’s been gone all day so there’s a chance there might even be some left for you, if Matt hasn’t gotten to it.” 

“Alrighty then, pizza and pie it is then.” Lance pulled away and stood up straight, stretching his arms out above him. “I’m covered in soot. I’m gonna take a shower.” Now that he said it, Keith could see the streaks of soot that were on his forearms and across his face. “Think of something for us to watch on Netflix while I’m in there, yeah?” Keith rolled his eyes because it definitely was not his turn to pick something out on Netflix. Lance didn’t leave room for argument though. He disappeared into Keith’s adjoining bathroom, leaving the door open just a crack. 

Keith sighed to himself. His gaze turned back down to the sheathed luxite blade. 

The shower turned on in the bathroom. Lance hummed a random tune to himself. 

Keith rested his hand on the hilt and ran his thumb over the insignia at the base of his blade. The little symbol there was something so familiar, yet so foreign to him. 

Keith swallowed and glanced back to the bathroom door. 

He finally had the chance to find answers

He knew what he had to do.   
…  
…  
…

“Lance.”   
…

“We need to break up.” 

 

 

 

“Keith…”

 

 

“Keith!”

 

 

“Keith!”

“Sh- Shiro?”

“Wake up, Keith”

“What?”

“You have to wake up. Lance needs you. He’s in danger”

“Lance? Shiro! Where are you?!”

“Keith, you have to help him.”

“Shiro! Shiro, wait, please! Tell me how to save you! Tell me how to do this!” 

“Your doing great, Keith. You’re so close to it.”

“Shiro please! I don’t- I can’t keep doing this-”

“You have to go, Keith, now! Lance is in danger”

 

Keith’s awareness trickles back to him like the soft flow of a stream. Keith woke quietly with face was pressed into the softness of a blue blanket, Shiro’s name on the tip of his tongue. There was the briefest sense of urgency that sat heavy in his chest but he couldn't remember the reason for it. It quickly bled out of him under the heavy weight of blankets piled over him and tucked around him, almost in a makeshift nest. There was a sweet and familiar scent embedded in the soft blankets. It made him feel soft, happy, and warm. It extinguished his stress like a flame. He nuzzled into the cozy warmth of a quilt tucked under his chin, fit snugly into the crook of his neck. He felt cozy, warm and safe.

Keith drew a deep sleepy breath, content and comforted for the first time in a while with the warm sweet scent around him. He felt unusually groggy, his limbs were soft, syrupy, and slow. It was probably the deepest sleep he’d gotten in a while. He wasn’t feeling so quick to give it up just yet. He burrowed even further into the blankets, inhaling more of that honey sweet scent. 

It tickled at something in the back of his brain...

…

...

 

Oh-

“Fuck” Keith’s eyes shot open as he sat straight up in the bed. In Lance’s bed. 

Keith shoved at the comforters away from as if they burned him and scrambled to his feet. He whipped around, taking in the room around him and sure enough, it was Lance’s. 

Everything was almost exactly the same as it was 3 years ago. There was baby blue paint on the walls and lime green stick on stars stuck to the ceiling. Keith recognized even the cactus sitting on the windowsill, a gift he’d gotten Lance for graduation. It now on the verge of outgrowing it’s small pot. The only thing that seemed to have changed over the past three years was the clothes that were on the floor. Keith turned again. And the amount of pictures on top of his dresser. 

Keith awkwardly stood in the middle of the room. How had he got here? And why was he here of all places? 

His head gave a small throb of pain, the familiar taste of silvery magic still lingered on the back of his tongue. He recalled suddenly that he has very recently been on the receiving end of a sleeping spell. 

Fuck, did Lance cast that?

Keith eyes fell onto Lance’s desk. It had always been a whirlwind of school papers and spell books. It was chaotic still, but in a different sort of way. Books upon books, old and withered manuscripts and scrolls laid stacked ontop of eachother across the desk, each open to a different page, brightly colored post-it notes littered throughout. There were almost a dozen mugs pushed to the back of the desk, some still half filled with coffee. Lance hardly ever drank coffee. 

What was he working on?

Keith walked over and curiously turned one of top books towards himself. It was old and the pages were stiff. It was open to a page on tracing spells. Lance had gone through underlined small sections of text. It talked about using objects that belonged to people to track them. There was a light blue sticky pressed onto the page next to it, with a tiny arrow stretching out from the text. In Lance’s chaotic loopy scrawl, it read; ‘people they’re closest too?’. 

Wait. Keith froze.

Lance was making a tracking spell to track people based on their connections other people? If he figured out how to do that, maybe Keith could use it to find-

Lance’s book hit the floor with a thump as Keith staggered backward. Everything suddenly came flooding back to him with the impact of a freight train- the panic, desperation, fear- the anger. He’d been chasing Shiro’s scent through Arus. It he’d been fresh and real, the first sign of Shiro he’d had since…

Keith has been so, so close. Following that scent to where it was fresh, new, and strong.

No, no, no, no

Keith fisted his hand in his hair and swore. He’d finally caught it - the real scent. He was chasing it, and-

Molten hot anger flooded into his bones and Keith growled low in his throat. His head whipped towards the door. The loud clattering of something came from downstairs. 

Lance. 

————————-

Lance sat in the center of his staircase, flipping his phone between his hands and chewing his bottom lip between his teeth. He stared vacantly down the stairwell towards the front door. 

He flipped his phone in the air again and caught it. His hands were shaking, thus the fidgeting, as he tried to give them something to do. He checked the time again and sighed at the spike of panic that leapt in his chest.

11:03pm. 

Keith would wake up soon. 

Lance had spent a long time trying to figure out what to do with Keith. Keith’d been so worked up and panicked in the park- worse than Lance had ever seen him before. His anxiety and anger issues had of course gotten them in trouble before but this time it was all different. Lance didn’t know what to do about it. There was no manual for what to do when your half-feral werewolf ex boyfriend tries to tear up the town looking for his brother who is very much alive and well.

...Or should be.

Lance’s immediate reaction has been call Shiro, but Keith’s words had stuck with him. ‘That’s not the real Shiro’

What did that even fucking mean.

So Lance had had two options now; either risk Keith waking up and then maybe tearing his throat out in the middle of his own small house for both stopping him and then bringing him here of all places. 

Or he could call Shiro. 

Lance didn’t need to see Keith’s eyes flash gold again when he closed his eyes to convince him to make up his mind. He’d scrolled to Shiro’s contact number still in his phone, apprehension weighing heavy on shoulders and in his fingertips as he did. 

Shiro had picked up on the second ring.

“Lance?”

Lance swallowed, trying to make his voice sound less anxious for their first conversation in nearly a year.

“Hey man, uh, your brothers here,” he started slowly, “at my place.” He clarified after a pause. “You should probably come...pick him up.”

There was a long moment of silence stretched between the two and Lance bit into his lip. Before he could question it, Shiro quickly said “I’m on my way” and then hung up.

Lance swallowed again and continued to flip his phone in his hands. He couldn't help but think that Shiro’s brusqueness was a bit uncharacteristics. After all, they hadn’t spoken in years. Lance had been expecting him to at least sound a bit surprised Lance had called, maybe reassure him that the hot headed werewolf upstairs that hated his guts wasn’t going to kill him. 

Still, when it came to Keith, Shiro had always been protective, so he maybe he just worried.

Right?

The Shirogane pack lived right outside of the town boundary, technically out of the limit of any of Arus’s jurisdiction. Lance used to see them a lot when Keith had still been around. He did miss them all a lot. Two years since Keith left and Lance had shied away from the pack out of guilt and humiliation. Sometimes he looked longingly at the lights he still kept for Shiro and Allura in the rafters of his shop, thinking back to pack movie nights and the warmth of his friends piled around him. 

Under normal circumstances, Lance would have been excited to see Shiro again. But for now, Lance only felt anxious. He still didn’t know why Keith had been so bent out of shape in the park. His story didn’t make sense. Lance would like to think that he'd recognize if someone in his town was not who they said they were.

He thought then, about Matt and his stomach felt heavy.

Lance pressed his lips together and redirected his thoughts. He wasn’t going to stress himself out about this. He already made his decision. 

It was a short, 10 minute drive into town and to Lance’s place, so Shiro would be there soon and maybe then Lance could gain some insight into why Keith was under the impression Shiro was an imposter. 

Lance closed his eyes and leaned his weight against the side of his stairwell, letting his face smush into the wall while he waited. There were a million thoughts buzzing at the back of his mind that he didn’t dare to touch, but they still lingered nonetheless. 

Why was Keith so panicked.

Where had Keith even been. 

Had Keith even known what he was doing? If he was going to be back in town why didn't he just tell Lance and avoid all of this?

There might have been another reason for that one but Lance wasn’t going to admit it. 

Lance’s eyes snapped open at the sound of footsteps in his walkway followed shortly by a couple quick raps at his door. Lance unfolded himself and scrambled down the stairs to answer the door, pushing down on the unpleasant gut feeling still in his stomach.

Shiro smiled at him in the same polite and friendly way he always did when Lance pulled open the door. It did a lot to calm Lance’s nerves.

“Lance, thanks for calling.” He said as he toed off his shoes in the walkway and Lance motioned him inside. Shiro’s hair was a little wet from driving his bike here in the light misting rain. He seemed a bit taller, a bit wider too, than Lance had remembered.

Lance blushed and shut the door behind the alpha werewolf. Three fucking years and he still could not wrap his mind around how Shiro legally should not be allowed to walk around without a warning label saying; “May cause existential crisis due to immense handsomeness”

Lance pressed his lips together as he turned back to the werewolf. 

“Keith’s still sleeping in ah, Hunks old room” He said slowly, conversationally, still unsure how to act, both because they hadn’t seen each other in a while, and also because Shiro might be clone. “If you want to hang out for a bit until he wakes… that’s fine”

Shiro frowned as he shrugged out of his jacket, humming a bit as he took in Lance’s small house, which is a bit odd since he’d definitely been there before but-

“I could wake him up,” Shiro tilted his head towards the closed door of Hunks room and looked back at Lance. “I understand you probably just want him out of your hair…”

“No, no it’s okay” Lance forced himself to refrain from glancing up at his own bedroom door at the top of the stairs. “Keith was really freaked out earlier.” He studied Shiro’s expression. “He looked really bad. I think sleep will help the most.” 

Shiro’s face didn’t turn as much as he expected. It remained mostly neutral, serious and listening but not… as concerned as he thought. 

Lance frowned. He needed something else to do other than think and stare at Shiro’s face. The air between them was quickly becoming awkward. 

“I can make you a potion to take home with you too.” Lance quickly pivoted and went to his kitchen

“You don’t have to do all this for us,” Shiro said as he slowly followed after Lance into the small kitchen on the other side of the stairwell, “I know you and Keith didn’t really leave on the best of terms.”

‘We didn’t leave on any terms’ Lance thought as he busied himself rooting through his supplies. He kept a few jars of ingredients in a cabinet next to the stove. The kitchen was tiny, it lacked a lot of space that Hunk complained about constantly. But it was pitch black outside now, the big bay window in his dining room seemed like an abyss. Lance could see their reflection in it basked in the yellow from the light that hung above their tiny, rickety table. 

Lance found what he was searching for and set the few jars on the counter across from Shiro. “Where was he anyway?” he asked. He wasn’t ready to talk about how much seeing Keith so distraught earlier had upset him

Shiro watched Lance unscrew the lids on the jars and winced. “I don’t know,” He said slowly. “Your guess is as good as mine. He doesn’t really calls…”

Lance paused, one hand on the lid of a jar. “You mean you didn’t know he was back?” That didn’t make sense. Shiro had to have known he was at least nearby. There was no way he'd be acting this calm if he too hadn’t seen Keith in months...right?

“Like I said, he didn't really keep in touch with us” Shiro shrugged, rubbing at the back of his head. He sounded a little bit shorter this time. 

Lance made himself start mixing the ingredients even as his mind started whirring a mile a minute. 

A creak in the floorboards above them broke through the silence. The bed above them shifted. Keith was starting to wake up. Lance was sure that if he heard it, Shiro did too. Hopefully his little lie about Keith’s put him off for a bit, but knowing Shiro, he’d figure it out sooner rather than later. 

Forcing himself to keep his breathing steady in the face of Shiro’s werewolf hearing, Lance continued stirring with one hand and cast a small feeler spell with the other he kept at his side. The spell was imperceptible. Lance felt it spill out, inky and black across the countertop like a flood wave before he guided it to Shiro’s frame. It spreads out in threads across its target, fanning up across Shiro’s chest. It fed back Shiro’s aura and all his outward projections. It was a spell used by therapists a lot in deciphering their patients complex emotions. Doctors and nurses used it to search for illness. Right now, Lance was using it to find flaws; anything outwardly on Shiro that validated his growing suspicion. 

Lance worked the spell around Shiro. He kept the invisible stings centered against his chest, where his aura is strongest. He then tapped out the spoon he was using to stir his potion and placed it in the sink. He then picked up the lid for the potion jar and began screwing it on. As he did, he pressed on. “Keith was saying some weird stuff too.”

Shiro shifted on the other side of the counter, expression calm. “He’s always had a over active imagination” Shiro said with a quiet laugh. 

Another red flag. Shiro almost never disregarded Keith’s anxieties and there was that something hard in his voice again, something on the edge.

Lance rested his free hand on top of the jar once the lid was on. He made himself drag his gaze back to Shiro. 

Their eyes met. Cool and even brown to a very nervous dark blue 

It was now or never.

“He was afraid you were the real Shiro.” 

Lance hated the way his voice wavered, but he was also so fucking scared that he was right. 

Shiro snorted, his eyebrows scrunching in confusion at the accusation, and he opened his mouth as if he was about to deny it. 

Then, a wayward thread of Lance’s spell spread out too far. It glanced the edge of Shiro’s prosthesis. Lance immediately yanked it back but it was too late. A brilliant shock of bright purple magic propelled out from Shiro’s skin, and encompassed Lances little network of magic and destroyed it in a crackle of energy that Lance felt in his fingertips, all the way up into his wrists.

Shiro, of course, noticed. He looked down at his chest, then back up to Lance. Face twisted, dark and foreign. “Looking for something?”

Lance was sure that this was not the real Shiro. 

Shiro was older than him, much more experienced. He was a werewolf and also a clone so Lance really didn’t stand a chance against him. His arm lit up, suddenly glowing purple. The prosthetic limbs skin broke and morphed into something different, something more alien looking, high tech and robotic. Lance stared at it incredibly for a few seconds, then looked back at Shiro. The older wolf watched him with a dark and dangerous expression. “You just couldn’t stay out of it, Lance.”

Then, Shiro either went around the counter or over it, Lance didn’t know. It seemed like one moment he stood and the next he was sailing through the air, only able to get out a short shout before he landed on his kitchen table, cheap wood immediately splintering and caving inward under his weight. 

Lance groaned at the center of it, jagged edges of wood digging into his arms and stomach as his head swirled. Before he could even think to do something, he was being lifted by an iron grip around his throat. He was slammed hard into the wall on the other side of the stairwell, letting out choked noise as Shiro’s human hand pressed down, hard. 

Lance had enough presence of mind to be grateful it wasn’t his new robot hand around his throat because that thing was just radiating heat and looked like it could be on top 100 most painful ways to decapitate someone. 

Lance hands scrambled against Shiro’s wrist, struggling trying to pry it off until Shiro tightened his grip even more.

“You’re going to be so easy to kill, Lance” Shiro hissed, stepping closer, snarling into his face. His teeth looked too sharp and his voice was too cracked. Lance felt like such an idiot for thinking this could be Shiro. The clone leaned back from him a bit, a cruel smirk of amusement on twisting across his face as he watched Lance wheeze under his iron grip. 

“All the magic and you can’t even save yourself.” He went on, cocking his head to the side. “This towns wasted with you as it’s emissary. They’ll all die and you’ve been absolutely useless to stop it.” Shiro grinned then and flexed his hand even harder against Lance’s throat, “Almost makes me want to leave you alive to see it.”

Lance scrambled back, a furious and desperate noise squeezed out of his throat before he gagged against the pressure against it. The blood was pulsing in his head and in his face making it feel hot and swollen with stinging pinpricks of pressure. He could feel his strength was fading fast as he grabbed at Shiro’s arm in a desperate struggle to breath. 

Not-Shiro laughed, unfazed by his pathetic effort. “Too bad your father isn’t here Lance, right? Now that is someone I would have been worried about. He would’ve seen through everything right away,” his grip tightened incrementally again and Lance cried out in a silent shout as the pain grew too much. “He would have used his magic by now to get away.” 

Lance let out another desperate choked noise just as he vision began to grow spotty. 

“And in the end, I will replace you too.” Shiro said around Lance’s choked noises, leaning in closer. “I don’t think anyone in this town would take the time to notice on pathetic emissary from another.”

Lance thrust his his palm pressed against Shiro’s chest. He couldn’t fight back, his offensive magic wasn’t strong enough. Shiro would be unfazed at something so small as electricity coursing through him.Instead, Lance cast the same sleeping spell he used earlier on Keith.

The magic spilled from beneath his palm and the silvery strands fanned out and sunk into Shiro’s skin. Lance watched as the clone’s eyes fluttered shut and the grip around his throat began to loosen. 

Then another violent burst of purple light came crackling out from Shiro’s prosthesis. The clone eyes snapped back open and Lance’s hand fell when he felt the wall behind him move away right before he was bodily thrown through it, Shiro’s shout of outrage ringing in his ears. 

The wall exploded underneath him, giving way under the impact from the sheer force of it. Lance landed heavily, skidding across the floor of his foyer in a cloud of plaster and drywall. 

Lance crumpled in on himself in the mess of dust and debris. His head and vision swimming and fading. The pain wracked through him and his body screamed for him to stay down, but Keith...Keith was still upstairs and he had no idea Lance had just invited his worst nightmare into the same house. 

Lance wheezed against the dust that caught in his abused throat. His stomach leapt with nausea from the pain and dizziness as he swallowed hard and tried to clear his head and think. 

He didn’t have time to. Shiro stepped through the ruined doorway, stalking towards him like every bit the predator he was. Lance’s tried to make himself move to get away but the dizziness overcame him. All he managed was a pathetic low noise of protest as Shiro advanced. He couldn’t make his body move, he wasn’t fast enough to flinch away before Shiro’s boot landed on his outstretched hand.

Lance cried out at the first break of bone, then again when the pressure only intensified. Soon he was screaming, his voice shattered and hoarse from the dust and abuse. “Please- please stop- Shiro, stop!” 

Shiro’s foot moved again and another crack came. Lance’s pleading cut off into a hoarse and winded shout of pain. Shiro leaned in to sneer something, but Lance cut him off by shooting an immobilizing spell with his free hand, straining to see through the tears in his eyes. It struck Shiro in the chest. The clone stumbled backward, the twisted expression on his face briefly stunned.

Lance was sure it would only last for a second but the bastard had just crushed his hand so Lance kinda needed a last “Fuck you” before clone-Shiro inevitably killed him. 

Clone-Shiro shook his head to clear it. Purple energy crackling out across his skin again. He lifted his head and glared down at Lance.

Lance glared back. 

A flash of black suddenly darted out of the stairwell. It collided bodily into Shiro’s body, snarling loudly, and tackling him through Lance’s front door. There was a loud crack and a shower of wood splinters. 

Keith. 

The sound of growling and snapping from his front lawn quickly doubled. Both Shiro and Keith were fighting in wolf form in his front yard. 

Lance wanted nothing more than to lay amongst his shattered kitchen wall and cradle his fucking hand as the ringing in his ears mounted and faded, but he had to help Keith. 

Even if Keith was one of the fastest wolves he’d ever seen, Shiro was bigger and stronger and there was no way to tell just how much the clone knew about Keith’s fighting style.

A loud yelp snapped Lance back to himself. He rolled himself over onto his side, using his uninjured hand to brace himself onto his knees. He paused to drag in a few heavy painful breaths before struggling to his feet and staggering over to the broken frame of his front doorway. His head swam violently with each movement. His eyes fluttered shut as he collapsed out of the doorway onto to the first step up to his doorway. The cool concrete felt good on his bruised sore face, reminding him that “Oh yeah, I just got thrown through a wall”.

Keith and Shiro were fighting in the yard, flinging blood and spit all over and just generally earning Lance the ‘Worst neighbor of the year award’ award.

Lance fought against his exhaustion. That was actually a lot of blood flying away from the two wolves. He needed to act fast before either he passed out of Keith got hurt any worse.

Luckily, something good that came out of dating a hot headed and overactive werewolf for 3 years. They’d had the time to develop fighting techniques together. Lance used to know all the ins and outs of Keith’s fighting style. It’s changed now, Lance could tell just by watching Keith, but the base is still there. Keith was all about full frontal attacks, quick drawbacks, and then re-entering the fight. Lance still knew exactly where to place his rune. He drew it from memory. It’d taken years to develop a rune that didn’t trigger to Keith’s exact quintessence, but eventually they’d worked it out. 

It wasn’t anything that would kill Shiro, in fact, Lance made it so. They still didn’t know how much of Shiro was in there, or how to get it out. 

Lance cast the rune to the ground. Another wave dizziness to passed before he could manage a very painful inhale and shout, “Keith!”

The smaller wolf leapt out of the fray once again for just a second. His ears twitched briefly towards Lance, showing he heard Lance, then his posture changed. 

It was easy enough for Keith to get Shiro to charge him over the activated patch of grass. The other wolf was like a tank. The instant his paws fell over the circle, Lance’s magic shot up in a brilliant white forcefield from the ground, completely surrounding the bigger wolf. 

Despite himself, Lance grinned in triumph. 

Now to get answers….

Shiro snarled violently at the forcefield and rammed into it, hard. He then did it again and again. Thankfully, the spell didn’t give, but Lance couldn’t help the slight wince at the amount of blood flinging off Shiro each time he charged. 

Lance turned to Keith, who was still in wolf form, pacing in circles around Shiro’s contained form. They needed to do something fast before Shiro hurt himself too much. They needed to take the clone in for questioning, maybe to Allura or even to his mom to find out if Shiro really was-

Keith suddenly darted forward, unaffected by the barrier of Lance’s ruin. He got his teeth under the trapped wolf’s neck, catching him by surprise and in one clean movement, ripped Shiro’s throat out with his teeth. 

Ignoring everything in his body Lance sat straight up and screamed, “Keith what the fuck!!?” 

He scrambled down the front stairs toward Shiro’s frame staggering to the ground in the rune. He ignored the roll of nausea as he passed the mess of skin and flesh Keith’s torn out. 

If he could just get to Shiro in time- if he got there before his heart stopped and his aura disappeared he could- 

Lance came within arms reach of the collapsed wolf before a human hand clamped down around his wrist and another locked around his waist and bodily lifted him away.

“Keith!!” Lance screamed, “No-What the fuck are you doing.” He struggled like a mad person, clawing and shouting but to no avail. They only had a few more seconds. Lance dug his teeth into the arm around him. Keith cursed and jerked it away but didn’t lose his grip around Lance’s waist. He hauled Lance screeching back up towards the steps to his house and dropped him the foot of the staircase inside. 

Keith backed away, a tense expression on his face and blood dripping in rivulets off his hand from Lance’s teeth. He blocked several of Lance’s uncoordinated attempts to make it out of the ruined doorway, shoving him back hard each time.

“Keith what the fuck?!” Lance cried out of pure frustration and desperation when he back collided with the stairwell yet again. “You’re just going to let him die?!”

“For the last time, Lance, that’s not Shiro!” Keith roared back.

Lance wanted to scream. “How can you possibly know that for sure?” He borderline hysteric now. It was definitely too late. Shiro was 100% dead in his front yard and if Keith came to his senses later and found out that Lance had just let him kill his brother… 

Keith eyes didn’t leave his face the full weight of what just happened sunk in. 

“Oh my god” Lance croaked, suddenly feeling numb because what else was there to say. 

Keith stepped forward. “Lance, you have to trust me because I’m telling you the truth. That was not the real”-

“Tell me how you know that Keith,” Lance demanded hotly, voice full of desperation because he had to know that Keith was 100% sure. “Tell me just how the fuck you know for sure that was not just Shiro you let bleed out in my front fucking yard”

“Because I do!” Keith shouted back, angry. “You know me and you know I would never hurt Shiro-“

“You tried to hurt me today” Lance’s voice broke between hard breaths of air.

Keith drew back a bit at that. “That was different!”. 

Lance couldn’t get anything else out in the midst of his overwhelming panic so he just motioned desperately for Keith to explain with a pleading panicked noise built up in the back of your throat. 

“For fuck’s sake Lance he broke your fucking hand” Keith gestured frustratedly at his hand. 

Lance curled it in towards him. “He had PTSD Keith!” He spit back. 

Keith dragged a hand down his face and pushed the other back through his hair. He turned away from Lance’s accusatory glare, frustrated 

That’s when Lance saw the empty yard past him.

His heart went cold. “He’s fucking gone” 

“What?” Keith dropped his hands and turned around, following Lance’s gaze. Sure as shit, Shiro’s wolf form was missing from the rune trap still active in Lance yard.

“That…” Lance leaned forward on the stairs “Should not be fucking possible”

“What happened?” Apparently all the other clones he’d torn the throat out of before had stuck around or something.

“The rune still there” Lance explained “The body never passed the walls.” His voice trembled towards the end because this was seriously so fucked up. Beyond fucked up. Shiro had come into his house, thrown him through a wall and now disappeared into thin air. 

Lance said as much. “This is so fucked up”

Keith turned stiffly back away from the doorway, clearly unsure of what to do. He looked back to Lance and stopped abruptly. “Holy shit, you’re bleeding”

Lance nodded, burying his unbroken hand in his hair, propping his elbow against his knee. He wasn’t even sure which injury Keith was talking about. There were dozens of scrapes from the wood across his body. “Well, I did get thrown through a wall...and into a table.”

Keith turned to the dining room. His eyes widened at he saw the mess he saw there. 

“What the fuck.” He trailed off. “You should have said something.” He came over and sat down on one of the steps below Lance. 

Lance rubbed at his brow and sighed. “Before or after you killed Shiro?” he asked dryly just to be an ass about it. 

“Lance!”

Lance only grumped a noise in response, the sound of as hindered as his hand pressed into his face. He trailed off into a groan of pain. There was a massive headache building behind his eyes and he didn’t have the strength anymore to deal with Keith’s shouting. Despite all the adrenaline still coursing through his body, he was hurt and he didn’t want to think about his destroyed house or his friend/not friend being murdered by his other friend/ex-boyfriend in his front yard. 

“Hey, are...are you okay?” Keith’s voice was quieter when he asked. Lance was grateful for it but even so he still felt a twinge if frustration because he very clearly was not okay.

“It’s a lot to take in,” he opted to reply. He looked down at his mangled hand. The pain from it had significantly lessened, from all of him actually, making it easier to think and breathe again and huh… that was abrupt. Almost like…

Lance turned to see Keith’s knuckles brushed up against his legs, bands of black shooting up through his veins. 

“Oh,” he said, looking up to meet keith’s eyes “forgot about that trick” 

“We’ve gotta go. Someone’s probably called the cops at some point.” Keith said, looking away from Lance’s gaze but not moving his hand. “Can you heal yourself enough to get out of here?”

Lance looked down at his hand again, even with Keith’s pain trick it’d still be a bitch to cast anything with it, but at the same time Keith had a point, they had to get out of here.

“Let’s get to my car,” Lance said, starting to get to his feet, “and I’ll sort it out from there.”

Keith obliged and followed Lance as he led him out the doorway. 

At the base of the steps to his home, Lance paused and turned back around. He felt a twinge of sadness at seeing his demolished little home. It was certainly going to take some time to restore her back to her lovely little austere. 

Lance drew in a breath and thanked Keith pain pull trick for granting him to the clear headedness to cast a quick illusion spell over his house’s exterior. There was a glimmer in the air and then it settled into a picture perfect image of his house, undamaged and cozy against the dead of the night. 

Keith waited a ways away for him to finish. He was looking down at the rune still activated on Lance’s front lawn, and thus didn’t notice the small shadow moving towards him until Lance bounded next to him and jerked him out reach of the small hand stretching towards him.

“Ow! Hey-Hey!” The shadow screeched when Lance caught it’s arm, his palm just starting to glow with a dangerous violet hue.

“Pidge?!” Lance demanded, releasing them. 

Keith pushed his way out from behind Lance. “Pidge what are you doing here?” 

“I might ask you two the same thing. Do you know how many 911 calls I intercepted from this location?” Pidge demanded. “Someone’s bound to have just run to the station by now.”

Both Keith and Lance stared at their friend for a long moment.

“Lance got thrown through a wall”

“I got thrown through a wall.” Lance nodded.

Pidge looked between them incredulously. They focused on Lance. “You okay?”

Lance made a non-committal noise. “Eh.”

Pidge inhaled slowly and let it out in one long breath, sharing a look with Keith.

“It’s not like I did it on purpose!” Lance defended sharply. He a little bit offended that Pidge and Keith seemed to think so. “There was a this Shiro-clone and-“

“Shh!!” Both Keith and Pidge shushed him viciously, making him jump a bit.

“Not here Lance!” Pidge hissed like he was supposed to know that. They then turned around and motioned for both of them to follow to the car parked on the other side of the street.

“It’s Matt’s” Pidge explained while starting up he engine, “but I needed to get here fast and... I figured he wasn’t using it.”

Lance was prepared to fill Keith in on Matt’s absence as Pidge pulled away from the curb and drove down the street, but before he got anything out Keith was quietly saying “I’m sorry Pidge.” Like he already knew.

Like he already knew before he did already know.

These motherfuckers had been hanging out without him. 

Lance dropped his head back against the headrest, shutting his eyes. A hoard of burning hot emotions burned inside him, hurt, jealousy, anger and frustration. Pidge wasn’t the most social creature and there were many aspects of their life they kept private, but it hurt it more ways than one that Pidge hadn’t never at least mentioned the fact they were in contact with Keith still, especially after all those night Lance had lamented about Keith leaving on Pidge’s floor before Matt’s disappearance 

Lance clenched his jaw, fighting back down the urge to say something because what would there be to say. To give himself something else do, Lance started working on healing his injuries. A warm yellow glow filled the backseat of the car as Lance hovered his hand over the worst of his injuries hissing when they stitched back together. He pulled most of his cuts shut, leaving only wet blood behind as any sign they were there. He clasped a hand along his throat, cursing quietly as he pulled the bruising from there, alleviating some of the pressure in it. 

“Leave your hand. Mom can do it before she goes into work.” Pidge said as they glanced at him in the rearview mirror while they waited at a light. Lance was grateful for that. Healing spells were one thing but setting bones in as a trick all in its own. If he set them wrong and healed them, he’d have to re-break them to try again.

“You alright?” Pidge went on to ask.

Keith turned to look at him too, concerned. his face briefly illuminated by the flow of Lance’s magic and the anger that Lance had forgotten while fixing himself came back.

“It’s fine, all better now” Lance said holding up the healed skin on his arm just as the light changed. Pidge met his expression in the rear view mirror again and Lance looked away. Keith didn’t stop looking at him. Lance wasn’t addressing that. He cleared his throat and added; “I got the worst of it.”

After a few more seconds of studying him, Keith finally turned back around. to face he front of the car. Lance focused on healing the last few of the deeper cuts and scratches he had and tried to lessen some of the bruising on his ribs and thigh caused by the table. By the time they pulled into Pidge’s house, Lance felt less like he’d been thrown through a wall and more like he’d been maybe thrown into a wall.

They climbed out of the car and Pidge led them through the garage and opened the door into the laundry room but stopped before opening the door to the kitchen, turning around and fixing them with a tense stare. “Prove to me you’re the real Lance and Keith.”

“What?” Lance asked at the mere thought that he could be a clone when he’d just had the shit beat out of him by one. 

Keith just solemnly nodded. “Pidge, three weeks ago when I came back, I told you something-“

“Wait, wait, wait, hold on, you were here three weeks ago?!” Lance demanded 

Keith and Pidge only looked at him, then turned back to each other to finish talking, but honestly fuck that. Lance was pissed. Both of them were acting like Lance meant nothing to them. Seriously, what the fuck?! 

Lance was so angry he missed the rest of what Keith said. He glared down at the floor, face burning hot and stomach twisting.

“Lance!-” Pidge’s voice cut in, snapping his attention back to them. They were watching him scrutinizingly, waiting for him to answer a question he hadn’t heard. Keith too, a less intense expression on his face. He even looked slightly concerned. 

“What?”

Keith turned to Pidge. “ I’ve been with him all day, he-“ He glanced back at Lance as if he was some sort of specimen or creature. 

The fact Keith was defending him made him even angrier. Before Pidge could say anything else Lance clapped his hands together in front of him. He focused all his magic energy into the space between his palms, manifesting it there. Lance exhaled slowly, let his eyes drift shut. He then clasped his hands, flexing his fingers and throwing the blinding white light out from between his hands out across the room. 

The flash faded and suddenly they weren’t standing in Pidge’s laundry room anymore.

Both Pidge and Keith looked around the dome they stood under, cast in aqua blue. Lines of the water’s reflection streaked across their skin, glinting, and spilled out across the floor. Lance smirked to himself as he watched Pidge whip around again and again, stunned. A giant whale shark floated past them high above, casting a huge shadow across the floor. A school of fish flitterd near the edge of the glass right next to them before they swam off out of sight into the crystal clear blue water. 

Pidge whirled back to him, amazed. Keith looked more surprised to be there than anything else. It made sense. He’d been there before.

“Lance is this…” Pidge started.

“The physical representation of my magic?” Lance tilted his head. “Yes, yes it is”

Pidge laughed. “Okay” they said, looking up as a great white shark passed over them. “This is amazing. You’re definitely not a clone.” 

“Good to know” Lance replied, smiling. He relaxed in the presence of his own magic, letting his earlier anger just bleed out of him. 

“Uh,” Pidge said abruptly, snapping Lance out of his thoughts. “Why is Keith like that?”  
They were looking over at Keith, concerned. Lance looked over and noticed for the first time the werewolf’s whole frame was cast in a dark green-grey shadow, the color like an overlay on his skin. It bleached the red of out his jacket and the color from his skin. 

Apparently letting go of his earlier anger didn’t mean losing the all the residual nasty feelings he still had. Apparently he was also subconsciously projecting those feelings onto Keith. 

Unfortunately, Keith also followed their gaze. “Lance, what the fuck?” The grey grew darker and continued to creep up his body. 

Lance panicked and broke the spell. He gave a quick wave of his hand, gathering up his magic and snapping it back into himself. He did it so fast that it left him breathing hard. 

Both Pidge and Keith looked stunned. It was a normal reaction. Usually it took a while for people to acclimate to the change. Had the situation been any different, Lance would not have called his magic back so quickly and eased them all out of it instead. As it were though, Lance just gestured towards the door. “Let’s just go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the read!

**Author's Note:**

> Please don't pick on me for distinctions between mages/wizards/warlocks etc. I just use them interchangeably.


End file.
